


Burning the Bridges Crossed

by 99terminater



Category: FireWire - Fandom
Genre: Character Death, Family, Friendship, Gen, General, Grief/Mourning, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99terminater/pseuds/99terminater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the beginning, everyone has somewhere they want to be when the road ends. But that path turns, splits, and in the end everyone wishes they were back at the start.</p><p>A following of how Izzy crossed paths with Haven and Haru, and all that ensued in the following years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning the Bridges Crossed

**Author's Note:**

> SO. It turns out Izzy knew/knows Haru and Haven; when I found out I went from spewing out random ideas and scenarios to the whole thing SNOWBALLING~ That said, this'll basically just follow the three over the years from an Izzy-focused 3rd Person PoV.
> 
> As for this/the prologue, WELL. This is actually set three years before the start of FireWire (after Haven dies), and many years AFTER the main story of this fic begins. Thirteen years, actually. The next, first PROPER chapter will actually be a proper start of things~ 
> 
> (Also, BLAME SAI. Bc she's one to encourage fan things of her works AND SHE ENCOURAGED THIS PAIN.)

      The music was low and booming, pulsing in her bones and muffling the surrounding voices into an indistinguishable din. Her chest seemed to throb in time with the beat, and when her eyes started to burn again she threw her head back and gulped down the rest of her drink. Instead of a dull ache it lit up a trail of intense  _fire_ , numbing and enlightening all at once.

     She burst out into laughter, stifling giggles and throwing a hand into the air.

     "O-Oi! 'nother round!" she hiccuped, belch catching in her throat. It made the world spin for a moment and she was left blinking wildly, unable to really discern when the bartender looked over at her — or the exasperated look on his features.

     "Oh, come on," he sighed heavily, and in so few words he already seemed to be wound taught. She scowled.  _Jackass_. "Told you, Iz, that was your last one. Either I call you a cab or—"

     " _Dick!_ " Isabell slurred, slamming her hands against the counter and bolting to her feet. 

     The floor lurched, knees cracking against wood and face nearly crashing against marble. She stumbled, quickly straightening out wobbling legs and panting as her thoughts whirled. She raised her head to glare daggers, lips curling into a sneer. "'m not a dumbass! I know wha' I c'n do!" a silent burp popped in her chest and she straightened out, stumbling again as she lost the support of the counter-turned-crutch. "Stop actin' li— HEY!"

     The woman crowed in protest when she felt hands on her arms, limbs flailing but failing to hit anything. She swore, screeched, and suddenly cold air was slamming into her face. She blinked rapidly, stumbling again and remaining upright due to the grasp on her shoulder. Anger boiled in her gut, and after managing to raise her knee she slammed her foot against his.

     Instead, however, there was a crack and pain bursting in her palms. Curls spilled over her shoulders, sent shivers down her spine, and when she tried to stand she nearly fell back. Yet again the silent hand kept her upright, but her leg refused to not-wobble. Bleary eyes swerved downward, and Isabell only felt her guts twist further in frustration at the sight of a  _heelless_  heel.

     She nearly collapsed when she bent downward, fumbling to get the idiotic shoes off and swearing at the way it got her knees scraped. Tears pricked at her eyes and she screeched out swears in frustration, chucking one after the other into the pavement as she hobbled back to her feet.

     There was more screaming and a vile taste in her mouth by the time the cab came, but she didn't know which came first.

 

* * *

     She fell against her door, hiccuping and scrambling for her spare key —  _where_  had she put it?

     With a sour mutter she shoved it into the lock and slammed the door open. She nearly collapsed again, hands clinging to the doorknob and legs shaking. Isabell threw her apartment door shut and dragged herself inside, grumbling and swearing.

     "You bastards!" she screamed to the silent air, tears blurring her vision. She rubbed at her eyes, features twisted and hands tossing open cabinets until she found what she was looking for. The bottle was cold in her hands, and she could barely even look at it before slamming it down onto the counter.

     It didn't shatter, as much as she wished it would've, and without bothering for a glass or even the whiskey itself she drudged past, hot tears rolling down her face again.

     "'Special occasion'  _my ass!_ " she shouted, falling onto her couch with a sob and pressing her hands into her eyes. She curled up, burying her face into the cushions with face screwed tight. She cried, tremors rocking her form and  _pain_  wracking through her in waves. "Damn it..."

     " _Damn it—!_ "

 

* * *

     

     Her head pounded. 

     She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut tighter and rolling over. Isabell pressed her face into the crevice of the cushions, skull splitting and reek on her own breath making her nauseous. She ignored the rolling of her stomach and the ache in her heart, twisting and throwing an arm around her head.

     She ignored the world, pretending she thought everything was actually okay; that what she'd thought was the world had been ripped to shreds on its way out from underneath her. Then her stomach lurched, and she was hurrying to empty her stomach in the bathroom sink. It was vile, burned her throat, and the violence of the heaving had stars flashing behind her eyes and shaking arms struggling to keep herself upright. When she was sure she was done retching she threw the water on, scrambling for the painkillers and swallowing two dry.

     Tanned fingers rubbed at her throat, shutting the tap on her way out.

     The silence made the air heavy, weighing down on her as if it were solid steel.

     Everything was as it was the night before, from the soreness in her soles to the whiskey sitting on the kitchenette counter. Isabell grabbed the neck of the bottle, tilting it back and mindlessly reading over the aged label for the hundredth time. When they'd first gotten it, it hadn't been a celebration as much as a symbol of achievements to come; they'd joked about never making any real successes and needing to use Jonathan's graduation if not their retirements as an excuse instead.

     Haru'd never been a drinker, and really the idea had been Haven's—

     The grief hit her again, severe,  _crippling_ , and when the tears started again she clenched her jaw tight and slammed the bottle back down. She sank to the floor, sobbing, and buried her face in her hands.

     It hurt.

     It hurt it hurt it  _hurt_.

     Three years ago, when Haru died, she'd had Haven; had  _something_. She'd still has her best friend, the witty bickering, the discussions that were about anything from painted nails to the entirety of the universe, dragging the other out of bed when needed, poking fun at the other by "whispering" to Jonny...

     She hauled herself back onto her feet, chest tight, and let the crystal stopper clatter against the counter. She gulped down a mouthful of whiskey, the strength she'd forgotten about making her recoil away and her eyes water. It burned, washed the pain away in a burst of fire, and she was coughing when she set the bottle back down. She sniffed and wiped off her face, hiccuping as she hastily put the stopper back in.

     Hands tunneled through her tangled hair, the pure  _lack_  pounding her skull, and the happy memories that lived in every inch of the walls stole her breath away. She blinked rapidly, as if the tears would ever stop, as her legs aimlessly carried her to the door. Not even bothering to close it behind her, she walked down the hall until she reached the next door. As usual, the spare key was hidden in a false-break in the door frame.

     When Isabell opened the door it was dark, silent, and it made her heart fall again. She knew how it would go, that NOH'd have everything done to settle the sudden "move", as if Haven Min had never even  _existed—_  


     The thought made tears prick her lashes and a sickening  _hate_  twist in her gut. 

     Over ten years of loyalty, dedication, and thousands of findings...

     And  _this_  was how they repaid Haven.

     A lump formed in her throat. She hiccuped, wiping at her eyes as she walked through the quiet empty  _dead_  apartment. She stopped in front of Jonathan's door, with her forehead against the door frame, as if Jonathan was "sneaking" hours more of sleep instead of miles away and under the care of some NOH grunt.

     She pushed, and the door creaked open.

     His bed was made, in the sloppy manner he always did it, with books and clothes scattered about and ancient drawings still stuck to the walls. Book-bag still by his closet, wrappers "hidden" in the pockets, sharks of all kinds and media from floor to ceiling.

     Sharky, tucked under the covers with a beady eye staring at her from atop the pillow.

     In spite of herself she smiled, hand going to her mouth and tears starting again. She blinked wildly and walked up, perching on the edge of the bed. She pulled the stuffed animal out, felt fabric pressed short from years of abuse but clean as ever. 

     She smoothed out the comforter and set the shark on her lap, fingers idly running across the soft surface.

     She still remembered the birthday Jonathan had gotten it; when Haven had gotten  _him_. How much the boy loved his mother, Haru,  _sharks._  


A broken laugh bubbled from her throat and she squeezed the toy close, bowing and pressing her face in its soft fabric.

      _And she wept._  



End file.
